"Sylvia, what's taking so long!" Erik shouted, pushing away another Soldier of Limbo.
"These things take time, Erik!" Sylvia shouted, forming symbols with her hands in front of the altar. If she didn't do the ritual properly, the whole thing might blow up in her face.
"Well hurry it up!" Erik shouted back. "I can't hold these guys off much longer!"
"Almost got it!" Sylvia yelled. "Just have to recite the magic words!" She took a deep breath. "Hear me, Heroes of far off worlds! In our most desperate hour, the Kingdom of Vanaheim calls for your aid! Brave heroes, hear my plea and save us all from disaster!"
As soon as Sylvia said that last line, the altar lit up. A bright light consumed the temple, burning away all the Soldiers of Limbo inside. When the light subsided, the only ones in the room were Sylvia, Erik, and a group of very confused Heroes standing on the altar.
Atharian tapped his staff on the ground lightly, shielding his eyes with a hand as he squinted up into the mid-day sky. Gods, it was too early to be awake, much less landing a Control Pillar in the middle of the desert. On the bright side, this would stop the energy-storms. After all, Wrath of the Skies—a massive patch of glass in the middle of what was essentially a tornado of pure energy—was slowly getting bigger.
"Early or not, at least we aren't doing it in the middle of the night. Vihaan's blind enough as it is," came the reply to Jet'snot-so-private thought. But as prickly as his regalia was, he didn't contest it. Vihaan was far-sighted, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Maybe they could do something about it. Glass warped vision, didn't it? He'd have to put that thought on hold, though; the Pillar was coming closer to its landing zone and he needed to direct it. Just like he'd done with the last fifteen.
Wings scattering dust and tails straightening from their curled-up position, Jet hopped backward and into the air, the warm (hot. It was hot. He wished he could sweat, because his respiratory system wasn't cutting it.) air lifting him easily. His wingtips nearly brushed on his downstrokes as he rose, strapping his regalia to the criss-crossed ropes along his back.
The Control Pillar was an... interesting development. Essentially a massive block of obsidian carved with energy-absorbent runes. Of course, it can't just take all of the energy; it releases it back into the world, just... slower. In any case, though, it was big enough to stop the Wrath of the Skies (really, Jet had nothing to do with it. He didn't even know why the mortals called it that). The only problem about it was that the pillars are massive, at least ten fathoms in height.
Which is why Jet and Vihaan had conscripted Hyreth to help them. And, of course, Mythrl had come along as well to make sure they didn't do anything catastrophically idiodic.
Atharian eyed the distance to the ground with a thoughtful hum, circling around the Control Pillar with easy flicks of his tails. It wasn't too far.
He didn't think.
"Drop it!" He called up at Hyreth, who was perched on the sharp tip of the pillar, eyes screwed shut in concentration and tail wrapped tight around the volcanic glass. All her focus was going into keeping the thing aloft.
Her magic released and the sky all-but shuddered as the massive column of black was retaken by gravity, immediately dropping back toward the sandy ground below. It cleaved air, sand, and stone alike as it fell, sinking into the shifting particles of desert and even flinging some up toward those in the sky.
Wrath of the Skies stilled.
And slowly, slowly, the deep blue of natural magic began to waver, exposing the sharpness of the glass it had created. He turned toward the desert to land with the others, rear talons spread to take the impact.
He didn't land on sand.
It happened all at once. His vision blacked out as if night had fallen in an instant. The wind under his wings vanished. Words of a language he didn't know swam in his head, only deciphering themselves as they repeated. Once. Twice.
The air was back. Jet's feet hit something solid and he immediately dug his claws into what he now knew was stone. His back-plating bristled, standing on end and rattling. But he didn't move for his weapon, AriiqsƦeincaskac still resting across his back and looming over his shoulders. Despite his appearance, Jet dared not to growl, though his feathers were standing up and making him look impossibly larger.
He idly remembered to tuck his wings in.
Atharian was confused, yes.
But he was more cautious. He had no desire to make a possible ally into what was undoubtedly a powerful foe.
"How did you find me!" Lucy complained monotonously.
"You do this every time." The man explained simply. Lucy pouted.
In truth, this man was not Lucy's prey. He was actually a good friend of his named Loden Beastmaster, a wizard specializing in animal control, though he knew other basic spells. He had been part of the adventuring party Lucy had joined up with to fight off the army of the Vampire Queen Persephone.
"Now, are we going to lunch or no?" Loden asked.
Lucy nodded. Loden dropped him. But before he could reach the ground, his vision blacked out. He was still conscious and his eyes were open but he couldn't see a thing. His head was filled with unintelligible words. Or maybe they were intelligible and his head just couldn't interpret them properly.
Music Box: Off
Then all at once it stopped. His head was clear and his vision was back. He landed on the ground but it wasn't the soft forest grass. It was a hard stone floor.
"Oof." He groaned.
Slowly, he stood up and rubbed his eyes. Looking around he saw he was no longer in the forest anymore. He was in some sort of temple-y thing and surrounded by a lot of interesting and scary people. He wasn't sure what was going on or how to react. So he just hugged his bow to his chest.
Casey hummed along to the radio as she chopped carrots to add to the stew cooking. The technology still amazed her, even after a year to grow used to both it and her new life. No wars. No one looking to her for difficult decisions. No fear of death at every turn. Instead, she led a much quieter life, with a man she loved and who loved her, even with all of the ways she was broken from her former life.
The young woman leaned against the counter, placing more of her weight onto her right foot as her left leg threatened to give out. Purple magic swirled around the knife and flowed down to the cut carrots. She lifted the knife and the carrot pieces floated into the air. With a swish of the knife, the carrots floated to the stew and plopped right in. She set the knife down but lifted her hand back up, swirling the air with her finger. The stew began to stir itself.
It was funny, how easily magic that been used to keep herself alive in a war could now be used for such domestic reasons. Maybe she was beginning to adapt to this life better than she had thought.
Casey shook her head and reached for some seasoning. Will would be home soon, and she wanted dinner ready for him. As she stretched out her arm, it unbalanced her, sending her towards the floor. She moved to stop her fall with magic, but then there was a moment of blackness, of a falling sensation, and then the words, calling out to her.
Her magic caught her before she could fall to the stone floor, and Casey carefully set herself down on her feet. Her muscles were tense and her violet eyes shifted all around her, taking in the scene and the strangers all around her. Her hand reached for her sword, only for her to remember she no longer wore it with her. Still, she could call it in an instant if needed. But the plea had called her a hero, had asked for her aid. If she could trust it, then those that had summoned her meant no harm.
"That's all for this mission, remember your post. Everyone dismissed!"
Momoko walked out of the meeting room while letting out a large yawn. The commander's briefing were always boring so she was glad it was over. Human Freedom Movement would launch a raid to one of the yogai's storage complex and stole some of their weapon. The yogais were currently busy dealing with another uprising on the other side of the city so there shouldn't be much guards.
The samurai decided to just forget about all those unnecessary stuffs and went to her favorite spot for lunch. It was at the front yard of a small shrine. An old priestess usually could be seen there and Momoko enjoyed the small talks they had so far, although she would never admit it. Though for some reason there's no one at the shrine so Momoko just shrug, sat below a tree and opened her lunchbox, revealing several onigiris lined up inside.
She was just about to chomp at her meal when she suddenly darkness covered her vision. She felt a disorienting sensation as if she was freefalling through a pitch black hole and then her butt hit the stone altar. It startled her and the onigiri flew out of her hand onto the floor below.
"Noo!! My luuunch!!!" Devastated at the fate of her food, Momoko looked around in anger, she was definitely not here a few seconds ago and there's several other strangers with her, but her eyes locked onto a figure that looks like a mix of human-dog-lizard-bird thing and suddenly the strange occurence make sense for her. Yogai's magic. Those beast-alien always use despicable trick to defeat their enemies. She let out a growl to let her annoyance be known.
"I know you fear of us human, but magically kidnapping your enemy while they're eating is just the peak of cowardice." She slowly approached Jet while unsheathing Taromaru, the sclera on her eyes slowly turned black and her pupils turned red. She raised the katana on her hand and then launched a downward slash at the beastly figure.
"Let us go over this one more time." The small empress was looking up to Arak. The beast of a man towered over her, and many others, but it didn't dissuade her from trying to teach the barbarian as best as she could. "When you meet someone you don't know, you give them a friendly greeting. You can bow your head, or hold up a hand, maybe even nod your head in acknowledgment. Then they will give you a wave, or a nod or bow back, and that is when you introduce yourself."
"Okay, I think I understand it well enough. What if the person I am greeting is a woman, but not the one in charge?" Arak was very uncertain of the specifics. Ever since he and his people encountered their city-dwelling cousins, life became much more different. He met the fellow rulers of their kind, four siblings of great height and power like himself and his blood brother Mirik, and a fifth sibling of incredibly short height. It was off-putting how much smaller she was compared to everyone else, but she was the most civilized of them all and thus he had been taking his lessons from her.
"It depends on the culture of the people. Think of it like this... A battle. When you're in the middle of a big fight, and something unexpected arises, something you had not planned for, what do you do? You think on your feet and move with the flow of combat. But, instead of violence and aggression, you want to be warm and friendly. When we go to other worlds and other places we will be representing our people as a whole. A union is strongest when it is made with love." Arak listened to her words, thinking deeply about them as she spoke. He had only ever known the winged people that his kin had fought. Friendliness was never something he could consider with them, and only recently had he been informed by his new siblings that there were other worlds out there besides their own.
"Friendliness and warmth. Is it kind of like how when we first met?" Arak tried to connect how different they were compared to him and his tribal brethren yet were still able to unite under good terms. "Yes! Exactly like that. You may encounter those who are very different from you, but you should never let it keep you from trying to make peace. We're stronger when we're together, and that remains true wherever you look, in this, and I'm sure any other, world."
He sighed, feeling a lot of different feelings about what she had been teaching him since he arrived. Magic, cities, even other worlds. As much as he worried, he was just as excited at the prospect of something so new and grand. Their lessons continued for some time and by the end of them, Arak was confident he could handle himself in any social situation. He began to walk with the empress to meet with their brothers to begin preparations for departure into a new world when Arak's vision failed him. Odd noises filled his ears and a sense of falling overtook him. He could feel Eli's magic flowing through him and the noises formed into words he could understand:
Hear me, Heroes of far off worlds! In our most desperate hour, the Kingdom of Vanaheim calls for your aid! Brave heroes, hear my plea and save us all from disaster!"
It was a call to arms, plain and simple. Landing on his feet, Arak moved to draw his weapon once his vision returned, but quickly stopped. Friendly, warm. He took in the situation and was almost floored by everything he saw. He was speechless and light-headed. Was any of this even real? It felt like a dream. What snapped him out of his stunned silence were the loud words of a very small stranger.
"Die, you yogai bastard!!"
Arak stepped over, grabbing onto the swinging small person and lifting them up by the back of their chest wrap before they could strike, "easy there, boy. That's not a very good first impression you are making." He had corrected plenty of children before, even ones wielding weapons, so Arak felt confident he was in his element. 'It seems other worlds aren't so different after all' He thought to himself. Still holding them off the ground with a grip of iron, Arak turned his head to look around, "who was the one that brought me here?"
Well this wasn't good. A fight before she even got a chance to explain. She didn't have time to deal with this. But she had to. She pushed her hand out in a stopping motion.
"Stop!" She shouted forcefully.
The heroes who were fighting froze in place. One good thing about the ritual is that it gave her a modicum of control over the heroes. She couldn't outright force them to do things but she could freeze them in place, though they could still talk.
The priestess radiated a calm, commanding presence as she flowed across the stage. Her movements, painting an enchanting picture. None could look away as her limbs moved with a slow, fluid grace.
Her audience was utterly captivated. She moved with such controlled precision, with such strength, and yet with such softness as well. There was a gentle beauty to the gruelling dance she performed. As though she were the true embodiment of the winter cold.
The rolling of drums echoed across the snowy peak. It was an overwhelming sound, as loud as thunder directly overhead. The ground shook with such force that the vibrations ran through the audience members to their very core. Their hearts began to beat in tandem. In that one moment, they were united by a singular prayer. In that one moment, as the sun began to rise over the horizon and the music faded into silence, no one dared to breathe as the priestess held her final pose.
Pale lashes fluttered open in the midst of the dying light, revealing a molten gold that seemed to scorch with a mere glance. There upon the alter, a young woman draped in fineries slowly rose to her feet. Her gaze flitted about the room, taking in the unusual situation she had found herself in. She hid her face behind her sleeve to mask her confused frown.
"Too enclosed," Arii hissed as their spinning thoughts cleared. No one but him could hear their voice. Not while they were a vessel. "Too many people."
Jet opted not to comment as he glanced around, finding others of similar... out of place garments. Some had armor, while he was still dressed in his fluid blue silks. Others had clothes, but they were of an unfamiliar make.
His tails twitched, but he didn't have the time to ask who could summon him.
"Die, you yogai bastard!!"
The screech had him dancing backward out of pure instinct, carefully avoiding stepping on anyone with a precision borne of interacting (mostly) with Vihaan, but he couldn't stop the confused, phantasmic whispering of a question, the words sounding quiet but carrying just fine by themselves. "Yogai?"
His muscles abruptly locked and froze at the order of one of the other people in odd garbs in the room, wings tucked to his back and still mid-motion for a backstep. He would have fallen had he not been all-but sitting on his tail at the time. Again, he repeated his question in the same soft voice. "Yogai? Magical kidnapping? I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about... mortal?"
They looked like a mortal, at least.
"Excuse my concern, but I've never quite seen anyone this upset with a god." His eyes flicked over to the one who had yelled. It was similar to Hyreth's magic, but instead of being squashed, his muscles locked up. "If you don't mind, could you release me? It's terribly uncomfortable sitting on my tail as I am."
Arii scoffed, the sound echoing and bouncing back into his own brain. As well as not a small amount of indignation. "Atharian. You are a god. Do act like one, yes?"
The only response he offered them was a hum.
No one had to know that his staff was anything but a normal weapon... er... so long as they didn't see the vessel break.
Rommel “No. No no no!” He paced about the room irritably, kicking a broken chair aside. “You know what the problem is? It’s too dull! It’s too boring! I said ‘Come at me with all you’ve got.’ not ‘Rush me like farmers chasing after a wolf’!” He came to a stop to the only breathing body in the vicinity, and crouched down slowly. The man gasped intermittently, still trying to catch whatever breath he could, trying to cling on to whatever life he had left. He turned, as if to try to escape Rommel. To his credit, he was trying his best. Rommel sighed. Sometimes, their best wasn’t enough, though. Rommel shook his head. This was so much more disappointing than he had hoped. His little heroine had been the best he had ever been with, and all these mercenaries and bandits he had been gleefully pursuing had never even measured up to her. Almost with some wilful slowness, he reached forwards and grabbed the man by the chin, and forced him to face his grinning skull he called a helmet. Or a head. The anatomy of Darkeaters was confusing, even to themselves. “Tell me. Do I look like a wolf you can chase off with loud noises and ineffectual flailing?” He tightened his grip, and the panic in the man’s eyes began to deepen further and he struggled to shake his head, perhaps hoping that an honest answer would save his life. Disgusting. Fight back, for God’s sakes. If he started pleading for his life, Rommel was done with this farce.
Rommel released his grip on him, and straightened up. What a waste of time. Nothing filled him with as much joy as meeting his dearest heroine in the field of battle. He was well irritated by the weakness that plagued the land. After the defeat of the Dark King, peace was beginning to sow its creeping seeds in the land, and the people were getting weak. Even scum like these that preyed on the growing weakness were weak themselves. None so far had put up a valiant effort. Slaughtered like pigs, every one of them. Rumors of great bandit gangs were little more than just that. They were only considered ‘great’ because their victims were weaker than they. How absolutely dull.
He sighed, and changed his mind about leaving the man alive. With a flippant stab towards the ground behind him, he speared the man through his chest. His final gasp of air escaped his lips, and he fell still. Weakness cannot be tolerated. Only the strong deserve to live, and this man could not get any stronger. Perhaps he would deign to bring his date with his little heroine forwards a little bit. Mayhaps she would be surprised at him crashing through her roof. The idea would put a smile on his lips, if he had a pair. Oh, what a plan, what a plan. Would she be furious enough at him for upsetting her upholstery that she would bring all to bear, or would she be simply irritated enough to chase him out? A much more upsetting idea invaded his thoughts- would she expect his arrival, and have laid a place on the dining table for him? While the thought didn’t please him much, he wasn’t quite deterred by it. A good meal would be nice, and his heroine was not too shabby of a cook herself.
He allowed himself a soft, low chuckle. Maybe he would indeed pay her a visit. He made his way to the shattered door post, its occupant now laying in pieces beside it, having been blown off its hinges, courtesy of his own actions. No sooner had his stepped over the threshold, however, darkness enveloped him, swallowing him whole. Curious. It wasn’t night yet. Wicked magicks, perhaps? A great dark spell that could even affect him?
Now this was cause for celebration. He gripped his sword, and readied himself for an attack. Then, he heard the voice.
Hear me, Heroes of far off worlds! In our most desperate hour, the Kingdom of Vanaheim calls for your aid! Brave heroes, hear my plea and save us all from disaster!
And with that, the darkness fell away, just as quickly as it had come, leaving him standing within a circle, surrounded by others. His eyes flared as he glanced about, studying his companions. What curious people. He could smell strength and power in some of them, and the less said about the wyvern, the better. He had never the opportunity to hunt one, merely its rider. He surmised, however, that these were heroes that had been called upon to save this ‘Kingdom of Vanaheim’.
He had never heard of such a kingdom, and neither did he recognise any of these so-called heroes. Was it possible that he had travelled to another world entirely? One of the heroine’s friends had theorised such a thing as multiple worlds that existed beyond theirs. What he would give to see that dork’s face if he told him of this. He continued to watch as the antics of his new companions escalated into a full confrontation, with one directing his sword at the drake, and another attempting to stop it, all before a woman that stood in front of them put their squabbling to a halt. He would recognise her as the one who brought them here. Her commanding voice and the voice he heard in the darkness were one and the same. That and where she stood seemed to imply the same conclusion.
“What heroes would readily bring their blade to another without hesitation?!” He let out a great laugh. Wonderful. Simply wonderful! These heroes would be put to the test when the time came. He would very much like to see what other worlds had to offer. Now, however, he had more important matters to deal with. He stepped away from the group, and gave a low bow to the woman that he had identified as their summoner, moving his sword behind him as he did. No reason for not behaving nicely at the moment. He would have no quarrel with a mage like her. She could probably just melt him where he stood, all things considered. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Rommel, and simply Rommel,” he greeted her politely, before straightening up. “However, ‘hero’ is an extremely uncharacteristic term for me to possess. Perhaps you could refine your searches better next time.” What would the chances be that his heroine would be one of those standing beside him now if she had done her due diligence? He cast his eyes towards some charred remains on the floor. She had been fending off an army, it would seem, given the number. “Though it seems you have your disaster issues up to your ears, and that’s enough for me. Point me at whatever you need killed, and I’ll be happy to help. It's been a while since I had some proper entertainment. The last date I had was not...up to snuff, so to speak.”
Pure blue light, blindingly searing through his eyes. The construct merely allowed its radiance to wash over him like a wave. Smoke, sand and steel clung to his senses. It was as if their presence had become second nature to him. Having been dutifully marking graves with swords but moments before. The construct had heard a distant voice. Faint and yet audible to his ear. It had called for him, yet its wording caught his attention. What it desired was a hero to save it. Amused by such a heartfelt desire. The construct had allowed the hands of fate to guide him toward the source of the call. After traveling for what felt like both a short and long time. His eyes opened to the sight of a musty old temple. While he certainly had no problems with such locations. Part of him wondered if he'd ever be summoned somewhere nicer for a change. Around him where what he assumed to be others who had answered the call. Each was visibly distinct from the other, with mannerisms that stood out to the construct. The most alarming thing was the command uttered by a familiar voice. Feeling his artificial body stop in his place. A smile crept up onto his face. Wandering over to the young girl who he recognized as his summoner. His eyes gave her a neutral once-over.
"It would seem I was summoned by an unruly Princess.... truly regrettable" said the construct with affected disappointment BackSet
"Clearly." Sylvia said to the one called Rommel, crossing her arms and looking over the motley assortment of heroes. "But I didn't have much time to research and find tune the ritual before things went to hell and, quite frankly, I'm desperate."
She turned to the strange multi-animal man when he spoke, requesting his release from stasis. She held up a finger.
"I will, but first the three of you have to agree to play nice at least for the time being." She pointed at each frozen hero.
Finally, she turned her attention to the very rude construct. She recrossed her arms. "Unruly Queen, actually. Though the fact that you think I look youthful enough to pass for a Princess is quite flattering."
"Unhand, you stupid brute. First impression can go to hell." Momoko struggled when Arak grabbed her back, she twisted her body and launched a kick at the man's face while freeing herself. Though she soon found herself unable to move as the queen exert her magic. Momoko shifted her angry stare from Jet to the queen.
"Oy, telekinesis?? Let me go, you frilly skirt, and then we can talk about being nice!!" She said while struggling to break free. Though she did seemed to have the time and attention to let out a loud laugh when she heard of Jet's words.
"Look at this thing thinking he's a god. Ahahahaha.... He got it backward!"
Arak barely reacted to the kick, simply setting them down and wiping their face. When he felt his body freeze he looked to the woman who shouted stop. What was she freaking out about? The only thing going on was the child trying to hurt someone and Arak stopping them. He ignored her words about playing nice. No one had done anything to the contrary but one person. It seemed that this queen was young, and not very bright.
"What specific reason did you bring us here? I take offense to the usage of magic against me in this way when I did nothing but save a stranger from harm. Isn't that what heroes do? If anything, you should be thanking me." He addressed the queen with a calm and collected tone. 'I must remember I'm representing my people here. Calm, friendly.' Arak had to remind himself to act civilized, as Nora put it when dealing with the leaders of other worlds. Arak was no emperor like his siblings, but his people recognized him as an equal of them nonetheless, and so he would do his best to conduct himself as such. Until the need for violence arose of course.
Jet blinked curiously at who he assumed the summoner was, the eerie clear membrane paling the stark blues of his eyes briefly. "I assure you, I have no intention to harm anyone here so long as I'm not threatened, myself. I'm a sky god, not a war god. Atharian though this doesn't appear to be the Eastern continent, so I doubt you recognize the name. Circumstances not withstanding, though, it's a pleasure," he chirped.
He directed his gaze back to the sword-wielding screamer, humming a little deeper in his chest. Mild displeasure. "I don't quite think I've ever met a mortal who's never seen a god. Hyreth? Vihaan? K'Vasr?"
Meanwhile, Arii was mentally screaming in pure outrage. Something about the entire situation being below his station.
"And you still haven't explained what a Yogai is," he added.
The other one—the one who helped—spoke up, and Jet would have bobbed his head if he could. "Yes, I appreciate that, by the way. Thank you."
Sylvia shook her head and sighed. "Very well. It seems I have misjudged the situation."
She reached out her hand in the same stopping motion before swiftly turning it over, curling her fingers inward to resemble a cat's paw. The big guy and the one claiming to be a god unfroze. The violent one, however, remained suspended in the air.
"I apologize for the misunderstanding." She said, curtsying apologetically. "However, I do think this one needs to stay in the air a bit longer." She gestured to the violent woman.
Casey studied the various others who seemed as new to the situation as she was. Some looked human, but what surprised her was the large, muscular man being the gentle one while the woman with the swords was trying to attack on sight. If anything, the other woman's spirit reminded her of her younger self, back when she was foolish and just wanted the glory. But her thoughts faded away from that at the sight of the tall dark being, and his words didn't offer her much comfort. Though he was taller than her enemy had been, his appearance of darkness was like a fusion between the man her people had been at war with and his dark creations.
Her right hand spasmed and she grasped it with her left. The war was over. They had won. He was dead. This creature before her wasn't him, had nothing to do with him, even as it spoke of killing as desirable, as entertainment.
No. What she needed was information. They had all been brought here to be heroes, to save a kingdom, but why them? What were they saving the kingdom from? Most importantly, could the people that had summoned them be trusted? It was clear the woman in charge had some sort of power to freeze them, though it was unclear if that was her natural ability or a part of the summoning spell. The questions took away Casey's panic, giving her a goal to focus on. The muscular human had already asked for the reason they had been summoned, though with the one woman being unruly, it looked like they weren't going to give an answer yet.
She said nothing, just observing it all. Until more of the situation was understood, there was no reason to draw attention to herself. She was not the Commander here.
The queen reminded him of Nora with her response. She was small, patient, and humble. He was used to having to fight and argue over who was right or wrong in a situation. But in a situation where tensions were high, and a blade was drawn, it had mostly defused without a single person getting hurt. It was... different. Looking at the others, he was fascinated with just how different everyone and everything was. Their weapons, their clothes, their very bodies, all unique.
Arak flexed and stretched once he was released from being frozen in place. "From the looks of it, the boy is hungry." He knelt down, grabbing what was left of the weird white and green ball that was on the floor. "It is only fitting that I am the first of my people to try food from a new world," he smirked with pride, eating the food confidently. It was... The most boring thing he had ever eaten. It was mushy and reminded him of the food mothers would make for their babies.
Arak looked at the queen, "do you have anything to give the young lad that he can eat?"
Jet bobbed his head in thanks as he was released, shifting his weight forward and onto his claws instead of leaning on his more delicate tail. "Much appreciated." He flicked his wings (carefully so as to not knock anyone over. They were much larger than the room, itself) to work out the tension before eyeing the stranger in scaled armor, clicking his mandibles.
Before he could say anything about going off to look for something edible, though, a new person popped their head in, prompting Jet's ears to flick forward. Soldiers, huh?
Now, Jet was no stranger to war; he'd lived centuries, after all. But he'd really hoped to never get involved in such a thing. In any case, though, it did seem that these people needed help, considering the fact that he was summoned.
The god clacked his mandibles together in what could be interpreted as annoyance, not even glancing back at the queen as he spoke. "I will expect a full explanation after the battle."
And with that, he met the first soldier halfway, drawing AriiqsƦeincaskac from his back in a single motion that hit the soldier about the head and sent them stumbling back into their comrades.
Jet needed out the door. He needed space to fight effectively. Enough space to spread his wings.
"Ho, to be commanded into entering combat. How amusing." The corners of the foreign priestess' eyes seemed to crinkle with poorly disguised mirth. Any lingering confusion she held in her thoughts was extinguished by the ensuing battle. She kept a firm grasp on the bell in her hands. "A truly breathtaking sight. Adversaries they may be, but together they will make for a fine spectacle."
Ever so slowly, she began to raise it above her head as it glowed with an unknown power. Wind picked up at her feet, carrying with it the promise of ice and snow.
"Though the flowers of evil blossom, be it known... Abominations are fated to perish!"
The toll of the bell echoed throughout the temple. The wind exploded outward, encasing the foes closest to her in ice and the ones further away in a layer of frost. A sheltered priestess she may be, it is no secret that those who carry the title of High Priestess were far from ordinary people.
Momoko watched furiously as she watched everyone but her got released from the magic thingie. She started throwing all kind of vocabularies at the queen while trying her hardest to move her body. She obviously could move her lips to talk but other than a few twitching of her fingers she couldn't move. Damn witch would pay for this later.
Fortunately, it seemed like the place was under attack from an unfamiliar army. Yes, it's a fortunate event for Momoko. Not only she was released from the magic but there's plenty of enemies to vent her anger. The moment she dropped onto the floor, the samurai quickly unsheathed her sword, beheading one of the Limbo soldier who happened to be rushing past her. Her pupils turned into slit as she watched more unknown soldiers pouring from the door and a wide grin appeared on her face, revealing a couple of fangs that seemed to be longer than what a human normally has.
"Time to feast, Taromaru." Without looking at the others, the samurai charged ahead while yelling a random battlecry. Her rush seemed reckless and it's almost seemed like she would run straight into one of the enemy's spear but before the spear could hit her she spun her body, barely dodging the attack while getting her inside the spear's range and severed the soldier's arm with an upward slash. Blood gushing out from his body as he dropped onto the floor.
Momoko didn't intent to stop. She was surrounded by several more soldiers since she jumped into the fray alone, fortunately they got slowed down from the layer of ice on their body so she got a bit more time to prepare herself. She expected to be attacked soon so she swung her katana around her with incredible speed even though no one was in her range yet. The soldiers waited for Momoko to finished her aimless flailing before they all charge in with their weapons. However when they stepped into attack range their bodies were mercilessly cut down by unseen force. A few who were lucky enough to only got some bruises were too distracted by the sight of their comrades suddenly dismembered like that to notice Momoko rushed towards them and slashed their neck in a single wide swoop.
"Not finished yet!" She jumped from one enemy to another, leaving trails of lifeless bloody bodies on her wake. Even after all those stunt the samurai didn't shows any sign of tiring out. It's the opposite even, her swings became stronger and her movement became faster. Although her words also become less coherent.
Up until the current point, Lucy had been hiding in a corner, hugging his bow. Things were very confusing and he didn't know what to do. Even after the room was flooded with enemies he probably would have kept hiding in the corner and doing nothing. Sure, maybe he'd be accused of being useless but he was used to that.
Unfortunately, the Limbo Soldiers had other plans. They had spotted him and were slowly approaching, brandishing scary sharp weapons.
"Stay away!" Lucy shouted, firing off arrows at the soldiers. He wasn't aiming at any particular direction but managed to hit a few soldiers, killing them. The rest of the arrows dissipated back into light before they hit someone, which was good because otherwise one of his... er... allies(?) would be impaled right now. Honestly, this entire thing was kind of embarrassing for the new master archer but he was panicked.
"My, my, my, you really do know how to treat a man right. You might make a great wife." Rommel patted the Queen's head as he stepped forwards in front of her. He twirled his sword in one hand slowly and carefully as he watched the enemy troops pour into the entrance. Every inch of his body was trembling with excitement, and he was aching to let loose. Months and months of putting down mere ragged rabble-rousing remnants of a wartorn land had left him deeply unsatisfied. To be called here, to participate in yet another war, was, in many ways, of great relief to the Darkeater. Mayhaps he would find someone comparable to his heroine back home. His companions seemed like great hunts themselves. He wouldn't mind putting himself to the test against the one who called himself a god. Deity, or deified? No matter- if it bled, it can be killed. The one with the three swords, and the straw-coloured (and textured) hair, seemed like someone who was pursuing the same desire as he was. That said, she had the thirst, but she lacked the hunger. Perhaps, it would be worthwhile to put her swords against his, and see how that shook out.
"Hmm." Rommel clenched his fist, then threw it forwards, sending a bolt of dark energy straight into an oncoming soldier, blasting him back. His comrades stumbled from the blow, and that was their fatal mistake. Twin crimson lights streaked across the crowd, splitting the wave of soldiers apart, and at the end of its path, stood Rommel. He clutched onto his sword's handle tightly. The rush, the blood, the resistance of blade against armor and flesh. This was what he lived for. This was what he was MADE for. War, battle, destruction, death, this was his reason. A small laugh escaped his lips inadvertently. Then, without warning, he burst out into great, raucous laughter, loud enough to reverberate through the temple. His skeletal jaw split open, turning his ghastly grin into a ghastly laugh. Very slowly, he pushed his jaw back up to its place.
He snapped around at the sound of whistling arrows, and caught sight of an archer that had huddled in a corner, with some soldiers encroaching upon him. The corner was his best bet. No surprise attacks to catch the archer off guard, and all the time to shoot his enemies with, far away from combat. This archer must have had a level enough head to think up such tactics in the midst of a battle like this. Impressive. Rommel twirled his swords once more. He wouldn't like to make it a habit of saving comrades, but more notches on his blade was an opportunity not to be passed up. He sprinted towards the archer. He threw forwards a bolt which struck a soldier square in the head, before he rammed straight into another with his shoulder, and speared the remaining soldier with his sword. He brought his hand to his chest, gathering energy within it, then threw his open palm into the sky. Spears of darkness erupted from the pool beneath him, skewering whatever remained of the party that had attempted to accost the archer.
He turned towards the archer, and his eyes flashed. Maybe he should try out what his heroine tended to do in these kinds of situations. It was, as she said, always good to try and keep up morale, so people would fight better. Almost unsure of himself, he slowly raised a hand, and contorted it into a thumbs up gesture. "Good...job. Keep up the...good work," he stumbled over his words. That was great. In Rommel's own eyes, he did great at boosting morale. He readjusted his grip on his sword, then fell upon the enemies again.
"I must say, My Queen. You do know how to treat your guests. A horde of murderous warriors mere moments after summoning. Quite the feat of hospitality" stated the construct as he sarcastically addressed one of his summoners. Although he should be used to being called into chaotic situations by this point. It didn't mean he couldn't prod at those around him. Looking out over the approaching enemies. His fellow heroes had already taken to combating them in their own ways. This gave him some time to assess their fighting styles. Ice Magic, Rush Attacks, Focused Brutality. Certainly all were equally effective in their own ways. The current situation had the makings of pure carnage. However Archer was used to getting the short end of the stick. Stepping forward, in front of Queen Sylvia and King Erik. Archer summoned his signature sword-breakers from the aether.
"This battle will allow me to assess your capabilities as commanders. So show me as much of your power as you can" asked Archer as he began to gather aether. Taking in magical energy from the air and converting it to mana. He began his march toward an approaching Limbo Captain. It was certainly better armored and stronger than the others. It brandished a thorny looking spear towards him. The two warriors seemingly stared each other down for a moment. However the Captain dashed towards Archer with his spear. With alarmingly fast speed. It thrust at him with precision that would shred the wings from a hummingbird. Carefully blocking each strike with the edge of his weapons. Archer kept up a good defense. However his swordbreakers gained a new crack for every strike they took. It appeared the Captain noticed this and took his chance to shatter one of Archers swords. The broken blade soon dissipated, leaving Archer with a single weapon. Closing in to eliminate the distance advantage of a spear. Archer seemingly shattered his other sword to knock the captain off-balance. Now unarmed, Archer seemed defenseless. However he immediately summoned a new pair of sword-breakers to his hands. In contrast to the close-combat he employed earlier. Archer quickly threw these weapons at the Captain, who easily deflected both. Rushing at the defenseless bowman with his spear aimed for the heart. The Limbo Captain would only find a smiling Archer, before feeling a sharp pain in his back. Embedded in the back of the Captain were Archers blades, which had boomeranged back towards their owner.